The Bored Game
by odditycollector
Summary: Three beginnings (to a story that may eventually get finished). After the end of season three, things had settled to baseline Mainframe normality. Not that that's saying much...
1. Roll 1

Enzo was in the Read Only Room, bored but determined. After spending a few seconds getting to know Matrix, he realized that Dot and Bob were lying when they told him he would automatically get smarter as he compiled. If he ever wanted to be anything but BASIC, he was going to have to do the upgrading himself. 

Unfortunately, the Readme files, highly secured or not, were boring. With a capitol B, and maybe a G too, just for symmetry. Most of them chronologed for prosperity things like sector energy fluctuations and the daily function logs of binomes. At first he felt a guilty rush for spying on the minutiae of their lives, but soon he decided that the only thing more boring than the average binome's life was reading about it. 

With a sigh, Enzo closed the dozen or so files he was glancing through, and opened a new dozen, completely at random. The files were all neatly labelled and placed in equally neatly labelled folders, but Phong seemed to be using the same system of organization he used for his drawer. If there were any connections between nearby files, they weren't chronological, or to do with the same individuals or sectors or even the same type of functions. Considering how mainframe tended to run most of the time, he shouldn't have been so surprised. 

The most interesting of the new batch of files was a scientific report which put forward the hypothesis that nulls sucked energy. Enzo rolled his eyes. He wanted to give up on the whole thing, but if he was already doomed to look like Matrix, the last thing in the Net he wanted was to act like him too. 

He opened more files. Energy fluctuations in Kits sector… initialization stats for a few binomes… a couple zeros doing something Dot wouldn't want him to take a closer look at… the recipe for Dot's Diner's energy shakes - Dot _definitely_ wouldn't want him to take a closer look at that. He read down the recipe, just for spite, but the main section was deleted using a security code suspiciously similar to his sister's…. Energy fluctuations in Floating Point. 

Maybe he could just stay away from pointy objects. And become a pacifist. And not work out, ever. 

But then he'd just be BASIC _and_ wimpy. There'd be no way AndrAIa would ever - Enzo shook his head. He just needed to find where Phong kept the interesting data. He dug through the folders to an area he hadn't looked at before. He opened a few files, but they didn't seem to make much sense. He squinted at them for a nanosecond before realizing they were written in older languages. He had never taken those classes seriously, but he had been paying closer attention to all his studies lately. Enzo opened a few more files and tried to decipher them. 

What he could make out seemed to suggest the files all related to the same topic, although he still had no idea what that topic was. So the files predated even Phong's organizational skills. That was jaggy. Enzo had the impression that Phong had been around forever. He was pretty sure the old sprite had been there when the first games came down, and he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Phong had compiled up amongst the wild Commodores. 

He navigated through the files, trying to find the earliest one. Phong had told him that the Read Only Room contained all files since Mainframe itself was initialized, but it had never occurred to Enzo until now that that meant some of the files must have to do with that initialization. But a system couldn't record its own conception, so that meant the earliest of programs, the first file, had to have been written by the User itself. 

Enzo hunted through the folders, his boredom replaced by a single-minded anxiety. The older the folders were, the less information they contained. Finally, he came to a folder that looked like it predated all the others. It was locked - but the same type of security measures that had let Enzo into the core let him open it. There were advantages to being a sprite. 

The files inside, Enzo was disappointed to note, couldn't have been written before Mainframe came into existence. But they were closer than anything else he had accessed, and there were only five of them, and it was doubtful they could be any more tedious than the population listings. He opened one - it was all binary, but the strings of ones and zeros seemed to be nonsense. Another ancient language then. 

Enzo found one in his memory that seemed to fit slightly, and tried to make sense of the file. He found he could organize the data into sentences and commands, but he couldn't translate most of the individual concepts. Something about power, or command, maybe, which was a completely different thing. And then there was a break, and a new section of binary that didn't seem to relate to any grammar structure he knew of. It wasn't very long, so he read it out loud, to see if it made more sense if he heard it. "One oh oh oh one oh…." He stumbled in surprise over something that could have been an energy group, if it had been plain DOS, but was probably gibberish. "…Oh oh one one," he finished. Nothing. 

The file ended, so he opened the other four. They were just as useless, but Enzo couldn't shake the thought he had stumbled on the nature of compilation and was too BASIC to understand it. 

"Story of my runtime," he grumbled. But he was tired of being confused, and there wasn't anything else to do but go back to the files he _could_ read and be bored out of his processor again. 

He closed the Readmes and left the room, feeling like he had accomplished nothing. And maybe he wasn't any smarter, but there was next cycle, and the cycle after that, and all the cycles of all the minutes until he was compiled up. He'd be smarter by then, even if he just became the system's foremost expert on energy fluctuations. 


	2. Roll 2

Bob landed in front of Dot's Diner, worried and slightly tired. Using the abilities he had gotten from Glitch always left him exhausted in a way that energy shakes and rest couldn't quite make up for, but Dot had sounded upset over the vid window, and he had ported over without thinking about it. Now, as he realized what _kind_ of upset she was, he figured he should have taken a zipboard. Time didn't seem to be a factor in this emergency, and he had a feeling he was going to need all the strength he could spare. 

Dot was waiting for him outside. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring at him as if he had personally called the Web into her system. Before he could ask what he was supposed to have done, she pointed behind him. She said nothing, but it was the sort of stained silence that made one wince because it left the screaming to the imagination. 

Bob turned slowly, unsure whether he would rather trust his back to Dot in her current mood or the unseen threat. Where, before, there had been a large patch of green in front of the Diner, there was now a large patch of green… surrounding an ungainly, black structure. 

Bob blinked. The building was hardly bigger than the Diner, but it was curiously constructed. It was built from a few huge slabs as walls, with an even bigger brick for a ceiling. The blocks seemed to be dropped almost haphazardly, and Bob could see where the corners didn't quite line up. 

Dot made a tight growling noise, still pointing. She scowled at him in a manner that suggested meaning, but Bob couldn't guess what it was. The blocks looked heavier than what any Mainframe construction equipment could feasibly carry around, but surely Dot didn't think _he_ built it. True, he might have been able to transport the slabs, but he didn't like to think of how long he'd be weak after such an endeavour. 

He shrugged at Dot, and she clenched her teeth tighter. "Come with me," she ground out, and started around the building. Bob followed her. It hadn't exactly been a suggestion. 

Once they were at the other side of the structure, Bob understood why Dot had called him instead of a demolition crew. The whole thing was made of the same huge blocks; and there was no door, but rather a jagged hole surrounded by rubble, as if someone had found themselves trapped inside after building it and simply blasted their way out. 

Which was, Bob supposed, exactly what had happened. Standing behind a odd looking table in front of the gaping entrance was Hexadecimal, smiling proudly. She didn't seem to mind that her creation had all the aesthetic appeal of a handful of data cubes arraigned by a tiny sprite, and none of the cuteness. 

"Guardian!" she said when he came into view. She floated over the table and landed beside him, cutting off Dot as if the green sprite didn't exist. She moved an arm in a wide gesture that encompassed the dark slabs. "Do you like it," she asked earnestly. "I made it myself." 

"It's, er, interesting, Hex," Bob said. 

"Isn't it," the virus agreed. 

Bob glanced back at Dot, who was still scowling. He was suddenly glad that she didn't have Hex's powers, because if looks could nullify…. 

"But, um, why did you make it?" he asked. 

Hexadecimal waved a hand, as if disregarding the question. "I was bored," she told him, and he supposed that was about the only motive of importance to a chaos virus. 

There was a huff from Dot. "But why did you make it _here_?" Bob clarified. 

Hex studied him as if he had been suddenly replaced by something BASIC. "This _is_ the business sector," she explained. 

"Well… yes," Bob said. 

She blinked at him, white eyelids dropping momentarily over green eyes. It was unnerving, even though he had been the one to defragment her face, as though he still imagined the frozen emotions when he considered her. 

"I'm going into business," she said. "There were already buildings everywhere else." She looked at him, puzzled. "You said not to destroy buildings. I remember." 

"Yeah, that's great, Hex," he sighed. He forced a smile in her direction. She smiled benignly back at him and then flew back to her building and disappeared between the slab walls. 

Dot was now seething. She started to say something, but Hexadecimal landed beside her again and she looked pointedly away. "I made you a pie," the virus told him, holding out something round. 

He took it from her cautiously, remembering her cookies. "Er, what type of pie is it?" 

She narrowed her eyes, as if Bob had just asked the most obvious thing in the Net. "It's blue," she said. "I made it the same colour as you." She reached out a four fingered hand, and Bob couldn't lean far enough back to escape it without falling into Dot. He felt a sharp nail run up his cheek. 

"Thanks, Hex," he said, cutting off a choked noise from Dot. "It does look very… blue." 

She smiled again. "Well!" she said. "I have a business to run. I can't let you distract me all cycle." Her expression changed so suddenly Bob found himself replaying the transition in his mind to be sure it was natural. "Actually," she purred, "I can." 

"No, no," Bob said quickly. "You're right. You're a business woman now. I shouldn't waste your time." 

"But that's the fun of it!" she said. "It's so _boring_ to do what you should all the time." 

"I'm a Guardian, Hex," he said. "It's what I do." 

"Not… all the time," she said, her face all but frozen in a thin smile. 

He sighed. "I'll come by later," he said. "See how the business is doing." 

"Is that a promise?" He nodded slowly, and she grinned, delighted. 

"But now we have to go." 

"Oh, if you _must_." She gestured with a hand, dismissing him, and sauntered towards the blasted entrance. When she was about halfway there she turned back, as if just remembering something. "You will tell everyone to buy my pies, of course." 

"Of course," he repeated half-heartedly. 

As soon as Hexadecimal moved into her structure, Bob went back to the Diner, unsure whether he was dragging or being pushed by Dot. He let himself relax a little in the familiar place, but it was hard, as the awkward hut was practically the only thing visible through the windows. 

Dot was almost shaking with rage. "What," she demanded, "was _that_?" 

"You heard her," Bob said tiredly. "It's her business." 

Dot shook her head. "You can't just _announce_ a business. There's property rights and zoning considerations and energy input-output predictions and advertising and expected customer base - and that's before you can even be _considered_ for licensing." She had made it across the Diner, and now started back. "And then there's materials auctions and building commissions and meetings with the Department of Energy - that location is _not_ properly situated on the power grid -" 

"Have you gone random?" said Bob, who had been watching her pace. "It's just something for her to do." 

Dot spun towards him. "Oh, I think she's made it abundantly clear what she'd like to _do_." 

Bob just stared at her. She sighed and collasped onto a stool. "Sorry," she said, rubbing at her forehead. "It's just... that." She pointed at the hulking black building. "Where did she even get blocks that ugly?" 

"She probably brought them from Lost Angles." 

"And then just dumped them, and called it a building. And I have to look at it." 

"Not for long," Bob assured her. "She'll get bored soon. She always does." 

"I don't know what's worse." Dot looked at him through her fingers. "I mean… I know you couldn't have let her be deleted, but now we have to entertain her." 

"Yeah." He stared searchingly at the blue pie. "And she doesn't even have the battles with Megabyte to amuse her anymore," he said wryly. 

Dot looked darkly at him, but he was busy poking the pie with a pinkie finger and didn't seem to realize his faux pas. "Alright," she said finally. "She can keep her _business_. But you get to convince her to clean up after herself when she's done." 

"Sure." 

There was a muted explosion, and the roof slab of Hex's building moved upwards slightly and then settled back at an even more pronounced angle. The pie jiggled with the vibrations. 

Bob glanced apologetically at Dot. "I know - as long as _she's_ happy, right?" she said. "Tell you what; next time you feel the need to adopt something, we'll lend you Frisket." 


	3. Roll 3

AndrAIa plummeted through the sky towards a section of rocky beach. The wind whistled annoyingly by her ears as she fell, and she crossed her arms and sighed with boredom. 

A black winged pterodactyl swooped down and grabbed her leg with its claw. The sudden change of momentum was painful, but AndrAIa had stopped caring how many muscles in her thigh were pulled when she was suddenly jerked upwards. The creature began to climb, dragging her through the air after it. 

A brown pterodactyl had been circling overhead, and now it moved into an uneven dive. A large, green arm wielding a sword reached out from between its wings as it passed AndrAIa, and the head of the avian carrying her fell past her face. The rest of its body twitched, and the talons tightened around her calf momentarily before going limp and letting her go. 

The brown pterodactyl began to change direction in awkward, midair jumps. Obviously Matrix was trying to steer it after her, but the belt he was using as a halter was hardly the most efficient lead in the Net. While he was still struggling, the User pterodactyl flashed into existence and yanked her back into the area of play. 

"What is it with this game?" Matrix called down to her, exasperated. "No User has this many lives!" 

"There must be a bug in the coding," she shouted back. It was the fifth time they'd had the conversation, but there wasn't much else to do to lessen the repetition. She extended the nails on her right hand and jabbed them into the side of the pterodactyl, loading it with paralytic agent. It shivered and then went slack; its wings were buffeted uselessly upwards by the air, its grip in her leg loosened, and they both tumbled downwards. 

Almost immediately, she felt talons wrap around her calf and bring her back up. "We can't kill it!" she yelled. "And it's almost done the final level!" 

"Yeah," said Matrix, "as soon as it reaches the nest, it's won…." His mount bucked a few times and then began flying towards the User's goal. 

"Matrix?" AndrAIa shouted. "What are you doing? This game doesn't care if you get there first." 

"I've got an idea!" he yelled to her. "Just keep it busy!" 

"Oh, sure," she muttered. "Like I've got anything else to do." She twisted her body around and kicked at the User with her free leg, dragging the heel of her boot through a wing. The pterodactyl flailed desperately, but the ruined leather couldn't keep it aloft. 

As she fell, AndrAIa watched Matrix. He had abandoned his mount, and was now balanced on the face of a cliff, hacking at the branch supporting a large nest of hungry pterodactyls. They whistled and snapped at him, and he kicked one hard in the head when it got too close. 

The User recovered her and continued flying towards the nest. The point of the level, from its perspective, was to feed the yipping fledglings. AndrAIa wondered distractedly what it was about her that gave the impression of bait; in her own game, the predatory programs had all understood she was poisonous. 

"Okay, AndrAIa," Matrix shouted at her. He had succeeded in cutting the nest from the cliff, and he was standing unsteadily on the stump of the branch. She could hear the wailing of the baby pterodactyls as they tumbled to deletion. 

"You'd better be right about this," she grumbled. Matrix didn't have her hearing, but his tight grin made her certain he understood what she was thinking. 

The User flapped itself closer to the cliff, and this time AndrAIa let it. It didn't seem to notice that its goal was gone, but it didn't seem to be slowing down either. "Um, Enzo?" 

He frowned as it flew towards him at top speed. "It must be programmed to stop at the nest," he shouted at her. 

"That's great!" she called back. 

AndrAIa was hanging upside-down in the pterodactyl's claws, but she managed to grab a hold of its tail when the wind pushed her up. She tried to pull herself free from its talons, but the User was too strong. The cliff face was coming up fast. 

With a small, almost apologetic shrug, Matrix jumped out of their way. The User barrelled into the cliff with a sticky _splat_, and AndrAIa lost her grip on its tail and swung hard into the rocky surface. 

The calm monotone of system announcements permeated the artificial world. "Game Over." 

As the game left, a purple light ran up her body, changing her code back to its usual settings. The cliff disappeared, and AndrAIa fell backwards for want of its support. 

Matrix's heavy footsteps approached her. "You okay?" he asked. She groaned exaggeratedly at him, and he grinned down at her. 

"Next time, you can be dinner," she said. 

"Sure thing." He extended a hand to help pull her up. 

"Ow," she announced, once she had regained her balance. 

"Are you okay?" he asked again. 

"Yeah." She took a few tentative steps. "That thing nearly tore my leg off." She gave up on walking and maximized her zipboard. "Come on," she said. "I need an energy shake. A few milliseconds of not getting eaten will make anyone hungry." 


End file.
